Walter Under The Dome
by starg8fans
Summary: Alternate ending to UtD episode 1x11 Speak of the Devil, and AU from there. The chapters are longish drabbles I'm doing for a challenge on Gatworld. Length will depend on how well I can incorporate the prompts. Thanks to gameoff for giving me the idea for this xover. All usual disclaimers apply.
1. Chapter 1

One after the other the four youngsters laid their left hands against the the dome, closing their eyes in concentration. When they opened them again they saw two figures approaching. One of them was an old man in a lab coat with a melancholic, craggy face. The other was a younger man, tall with curly brown hair.

Fascinated, the four kids watched as the strangers halted just outside the dome. Apparently they had not noticed the barrier, because the old man also raised his left hand as if in greeting, smiled and said something. Angie pointed at her ear, shaking her head to indicate that they couldn't hear them. The two men exchanged puzzled glances. Then the younger one seemed to notice the glow around the teens' hands, and he stepped closer to examine the effect. When he tapped against the barrier - an outline of a shiny handprint appeared.

The four inside exchanged puzzled glances. "What the heck?" Norrie said.

Joe shrugged.. "Maybe the four of us are enough for the mini dome, but not for the big one?"

"But they're outside," Junior pointed out.

"And why them? Never saw them before," Angie added.

The old man appeared fascinated by what he had just witnessed, and although his companion tried to stop him he poked the surface of the dome with his finger. At the exact spot, another glowing handprint appeared.

A lively discussion ensued outside. Obviously the lab-coated man wanted them to put their hands on the spots, while the tall one was against it.

"Oh come on, the dome wants you to. Do it!" Joe muttered. The others joined in. "Do it! Do it!" they chanted.

The two men got the message. The older one resolutely indicated the handprints, and the younger one finally agreed with an eye roll. They put their palms against the indicated spots.

There was a loud crack - then the two men materialized between the four youngsters.

"Ouch! Dammit, why do I always get zapped?" the younger man complained, shaking his hand.

"First teleportation, and now we permeated a solid barrier. How extraordinary," the other one exclaimed. Then he turned to the four kids. "May we introduce ourselves - my name is Dr. Walter Bishop, and this is my son Peter. I assume you brought us here?"

Joe introduced himself and his friends. "No, sir, it must have been the dome that brought you. I guess it... needs you."

"Dome?" Peter cast a dubious look around. "You mean we're now trapped in this fishbowl?"

Angie nodded. "The whole town is, It came down about ten days ago. Nobody knows why or how. It's really weird."

Walter beamed at the girl. "That explains our presence. Weird is our specialty, isn't it, Peter?"

"You can say that again," Peter sighed. "Okay, how about we go somewhere more comfortable and you tell us all you know? Then we'll see what we can do about this thing."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** The challenge prompt for this week fit the story, so here's chapter 2. I'll see how long I can continue this way, but in any case I promise to finish this with my take on why the dome is there.

Dusk was falling by the time the four youngsters had finished their tale. They had brought the Bishops back to Joe's and Angie's house, where they were now all sitting around the living room table. Walter was nibbling on a cookie, staring into space. Peter nodded at the kids approvingly.

"Hats off to you, you've really been busy and found out a lot that can be useful."

"Yes, but what does it all mean?" Norrie asked.

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" Peter cast her one of his megawatt smiles, and the girl blushed under his attention.

Walter had finished his cookie, washing the rest of the crumbs down with a gulp of orange juice. Then he stood up. "I would like to see this mini dome now," he announced.

"Absolutely," Peter agreed. "Nothing but a new pair of eyes to see if any clue has been overlooked."

The black egg was still flashing pink stars. Peter knelt in the straw surrounding it, careful not to touch the surface. He paid particular attention to the monarch chrysalis hanging from its inside wall.

"Amazing," he said. Then he turned to Walter. "What do you think? Accident or design?"

"I don't have enough information at present to answer that question," Walter replied loftily. Then he motioned to Joe. "Show me where you put your hands."

The four kids stepped up to the sphere and put their hands on the surface. Once again pink dots of light filled the air over their heads, forming themselves into slowly revolving constellations. Suddenly Peter had an idea.

"When are your birthdays?" he asked the group of four.

"April 19," Angie said.

"January 20," Joe chimed in.

"October 30," Norrie volunteered.

"June 21," Junior replied. "Why is that important?"

"Peter, that's brilliant!" Walter exclaimed.

"Hang on..." Joe was quick on the uptake as usual. "You think our zodiac signs have something to do with this?"

"I believe they do." Peter rose from his crouch and stood between Joe and Angie. "It can't be a coincidence that your birthdays are all three months apart. And if I'm not mistaken..." He looked up at the glowing pink dots over their heads, then nodded. "Yup. You're all standing right under the constellations that correspond to your individual signs."

"But what about the butterfly?" Norrie looked at the chrysalis that was closest to her own hand. "There is no Zodiak sign that's called Butterfly or Monarch or something."

"Yeah, that's a bit of a puzzle," Peter admitted.

"Nonsense, son, it makes perfect sense." Walter now also stepped closer and stood next to Norrie. "Belly and I were dabbling in astronomy, back in the 70s. It was all the rage back then." He started humming a few bars of 'Aquarius', until a stern look from Peter brought him back on track. "Anyway, we found out that the sun spends a lot more time in the constellation of Ophiuchus the Serpent Bearer than in the adjacent one of Scorpio. We therefore drew up a new calendar with thirteen zodiac signs, including that of the Serpent. And that is precisely where the chrysalis is located."

Peter looked a bit skeptical. "You really think this arrangement has something to do with a possibly - or should I say probably - drug-induced theory you and your lab partner came up with over thirty years ago?"

"Yes," Walter confirmed. "And if you require further proof, these kids' birthdays correspond to their particular signs under both the traditional calendar and the new one Bellie and I created. Of course, accommodating thirteen signs instead of twelve moved the dates around quite significantly. Sometimes they only overlap a few days. But they all fit."

"Well, that answers one question," Peter agreed. "That butterfly is there by design. And I bet something interesting will happen when it hatches."

Another **AN:** The theory of the 13 zodiak signs is not mine, I found it on a blog by Astro Bob. PM me if you'd like the URL, I can't post it here.


	3. Chapter 3

"So how long do you think we have until this Monarch emerges?" Peter asked his father.

Walter was squatting in the hay, observing the chrysalis through a magnifying glass Joe had provided. Angie had commandeered the other kids' help with dinner preparations, leaving the Bishops with the mysterious sphere.

"It is hard to tell," Walter replied. "The Chrysalis stage for Monarch butterflies usually lasts ten days but it may be considerably longer, depending on weather conditions." He lightly tapped the translucent wall with the lens. "There's no telling how the atmosphere inside this dome will influence the development of the insect."

"Educated guess?" Peter persisted.

Walter thought for a moment, going over the timeline Joe and his friends had provided. "I'd say two, maybe three days?"

Peter nodded. "That's what I figure."

Just then Norrie arrived to tell them dinner was ready. "Excellent," Walter exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Let us join the Scooby Gang for some nourishment."

"Scooby gang?" Peter smiled. "Where did that come from?"

"Well, there are two boys and two girls, and they solve mysteries," Walter defended himself.

Peter's grin widened. "But wouldn't that make you an accident prone, slobbering great Dane?"

"Alright," Walter replied grumpily. "The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles then." Peter's laughter and Norrie's puzzled looks followed the old scientist all the way out of the barn.

Walter pouted over his heaping plate of spaghetti with meatballs, not participating in the dinner table conversation at all. Peter completely ignored this behavior, he was used to Walter becoming a petulant child when has was proven wrong or became the butt of a joke. It didn't stop the rest of the group from speculating about the mystery they were facing.

"I've been thinking," Joe declared. "At some point the mini dome must have been permeable so the Monarch could get in just as it was about to go into its pupa stage. Otherwise it would have starved."

"Good point, caterpillars have voracious appetites as we all know," Peter agreed.

Junior snorted. "Don't jump to conclusions. We're not all science geeks here."

"Don't tell me you never read 'The Hungry Little Caterpillar' in Kindergarten," Norrie snapped at him. It wasn't quite clear if she was coming to Joe's or Peter's defense.

"As I was saying," Joe continued, "either the dome was created around the caterpillar - or there's an opening somewhere."

Walter had been rolling his last meatball across his plate. Now he suddenly looked up, his interest piqued. "Did you ever try to turn it over?"

"No..." Joe said, while the others shook their heads. You could tell that his mind was already busily running different scenarios.

"Wouldn't the egg fall out of its... nest or whatever if we tipped it?" Angie asked.

"Not necessarily." All eyes turned to Peter. "Those pink stars running through the egg seem to indicate that it's plugged into some kind of power source. Unless this generator is hidden under the earth at the bottom of the dome, the energy must come from the dome itself. So there should be a connection there."

"But if we change the angle the Monarch won't be where this... what's-its-name constellation is anymore," Norrie pointed out. "Then what happens?"

"Only one way to find out," Peter announced, laying his fork on his empty plate and rising from his chair. "Who's gonna help me do some heavy lifting?"

_**AN: **__If you didn't already guess it, cartoon shows of the 80s and 90s was the prompt here._


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: **__This week's prompt gave me the opportunity to write a scene I feel has been missing on the show._

The Bishops and the youngster were just about to head out the door when they were interrupted.

"Norrie? Who are these men?" Carolyn HIll stood on the stairs, dressed in pyjamas and a knit jacket in warm earth colors. Norrie felt a lump in her throat. She remembered vividly when they had bought that jacket. It was their first trip as a family, and she and her two moms had taken a drive along the Blue Ridge Parkway one fall weekend. Alice had been entranced by the display nature put on for them, making Carolyn stop the car every few miles to take pictures of the trees' vibrant colors. They'd had lunch at a quaint little tea shoppe-cum-crafts store, and Alice had insisted on buying Carolyn this jacket as a souvenir, since the maroon, burgundy, gold and amber hues reminded her of the foliage they had witnessed.

Norrie was pulled from her memories when she heard Walter answer Carolyn's question.

"Why hello, my dear lady, my name is Dr. Walter Bishop, and this is my son Peter. We are scientists, consultants to the FBI, and we hope to solve the mystery of this dome that has descended on your town."

Carolyn looked from Walter to Peter, suspicion clearly etched in her features. "Consultants to the FBI, huh? How come I never heard of you before? Where have you been this past week?"

"Why, I was working in my lab in..."

"We've been busy running analyses and computer models," Peter interrupted. He felt it was wiser not to mention that they had been transported by some weird force right through what was considered an impenetrable barrier.

"Let's say I believe you." Carolyn crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at the Bishops from her position on the stairs. "What do you want with my daughter and her friends?"

"Mom, it's okay, we're helping them," Norrie explained.

"Helping them how?" Carolyn demanded. But when she saw Norrie's petulant expression her face softened. "I'm sorry, child, I realize I have neglected you these last couple of days since Alice..." Her hands unconsciously pulled the jacket closer around her body. Then she came down the steps and stood in front of her daughter, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You have a right to be mad at me. I should have been there for you in this tough time, not just wallow in my own grief."

Norrie seemed quite embarrassed by this display of affection in front of the others. "It's okay, Mom, we've been busy. Joe and I made some discoveries, and we're just showing them to Dr. Bishop and Peter."

"At this late hour?" Carolyn's suspicions returned with a vengeance.

"Time if of the essence, Ma'am," Peter said. The con man in him knew better than turning his full charm on this woman. He went for the earnest and capable image. "We expect that an event of some significance will occur in the next couple of days. And we would like to be prepared."

"Oh..." Even a hard-nosed lawyer like Carolyn wasn't impervious to the younger Bishops powers of persuasion. She even fell into the same type of stilted language. "In that case, pray proceed. But I would welcome some quality time with my daughter later."

"Of course." Peter nodded at the woman, then herded his little troop of volunteers out the door.

_**AN: **__The prompt for this chapter was 'autumn'._


	5. Chapter 5

When the Bishops and the youngsters rounded the corner of the house they stopped dead in their tracks. Bright, pinkish-golden light was radiating through the cracks in the barn's walls.

"Oh my," Walter muttered.

"Has it ever done that before?" Peter asked Joe, who shook his head.

"Maybe the egg is mad at us for wanting to shift it," Angie suggested.

Peter looked at her sharply. "You mean like the storm you were telling me about?"

Angie shrugged. "Could be."

Peter turned to Walter, who was still staring at the spectacle in front of them. "Do you think it's safe to approach?"

Walter shook his head. "I don't know, son. If it's just light and heat you can turn back if it gets too intense. But if we're dealing with some kind of radiation..."

Peter nodded, then added teasingly, "I don't suppose you happen to have a Geiger counter in your pocket?"

"There's one in the police station," Junior volunteered. "I could get it."

"How long would that take?" Peter asked.

"Twenty minutes, thirty tops."

Peter shook his head. "Too long. Here's what we're going to do, you..."

At that moment the light inside the barn disappeared as if somebody had thrown a switch, plunging them all into darkness.

"Well," Walter said after a brief pause, "I guess it's safe enough now," and started walking with long strides towards the now dark building. He was too preoccupied to notice that its door opened just enough to let a slender figure slip out. Only when a shot rang out did he stop, stumbling backwards in fear and landing on his bottom in the grass.

"That's close enough," a woman's voice came from the barn's entrance. "No more hiding this Easter egg of yours."

Peter had quickly given Walter a once-over to make sure he was okay. Now he stood from his crouch and addressed the disembodied voice.

"Who are you? And what's your business with the egg?"

The blinding beam of a high power flashlight flared up and illuminated the group, who threw up their arms to protect their eyes against the glare.

"I could ask the same question, tall, nosey and handsome. I've been watching this town closely this past week, how come I never saw you or the old man before?"

Peter lowered his arm, squinting at the light. "You'd have a better chance of getting answers if you didn't shoot first and ask questions later."

"Hmm, cheeky too. I like you better by the minute."

The woman lowered the beam of the flashlight and approached, the gun in her right hand still pointing unwaveringly at Peter's middle. "My name is Max. I've heard rumors that these kids are hiding something that's connected to this Dome. And I have a vested interest in getting out from under this fishbowl." She came to a stop just out of range of a possible surprise attack. Peter figured she must be a pro. But he saw her eyes raking over his body, and decided to use that to his advantage.

"Why, gorgeous," he drawled, flashing her a dazzling grin, "sounds like we have the same agenda."

A small smile played around Max's lips at his outright flirting, but she kept her wary distance. "That may very well be true, but before we hug and kiss I'd like to know just how useful you can be."

"My father," here Peter pivoted and indicated the place where Walter was still stitting in the grass, managing to take a small step in Max's direction as he turned back to her, "and I are scientists."

Max raised an eyebrow. "All this and brains too?" she teased.

"And our special field," Peter continued, ignoring her comment, "is the weird, the unusual, the unexplainable. We've solved our share of mysteries, and we'll get to the bottom of this. That thing in the barn..." Instinctively Max's eyes followed Peter's arm as he indicated the barn behind her, which gave him the chance to close the gap between them a little more, "seems to be a kind of power source, and if you let us continue to study it I'm sure we'll be able to..." Without warning Peter threw himself forward, trying to grab the gun. But he had underestimated just how slippery the dewy grass would be, and Max managed to pull the trigger before he got his hands on the weapon.

_**A/N: **__ The prompt for this chapter was to make it about a minor character from the show. Thanks to __**gameoff**__ for helping me with the decision who to pick. Barely managed to stay within the 750 word limit for this one._


	6. Chapter 6

Peter crumpled to the ground, where he remained motionless. For several seconds nobody in the little group surrounding him reacted, even Max was too stunned by the unexpected attack.

They were all raised from their stupor by the sound of a gun being cocked. "Just hold it right there, lady!" a voice rang out from the house. Carolyn was standing on the porch, a shotgun raised and aimed at Max. "Drop your gun and put your hands on your head."

There was no mistaking the authority in her voice, but Max was an old pro. She flipped off the flashlight, and managed to make her escape in the ensuing darkness. She counted on Carolyn not daring to shoot since she might hit one of the youngsters.

"Nice save, mom," Norrie called out to Carolyn. A little later the porch lights came on, illuminating the scene. There was no trace of Max.

"What on earth have you kids gotten yourself into?" Carolyn wanted to know as she approached. "Strangers holding you at gunpoint in the middle of the night?"

"Yeah, it's not something we were expecting either," Norrie admitted.

Walter had crawled over to Peter's still form by then, gently rolling his son onto his back to see where he had been hit. They heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw the blood that was running freely down the left half of his face. With shaking fingers Walter parted Peter's thick curls to check for a wound, causing his son to moan and his eyes to flutter open.

"Peter... son... are you with me? Can you talk?"

"Wha... happen'?" Peter slurred, still not completely conscious.

"In an act of misguided heroism you tried to stop this woman's bullet with that thick head of yours," his father informed him, busily examining Peter's cranium. "But it appears the projectile only nicked your scalp."

"It was a calculated risk, and if I hadn't slipped..." Peter swiped at the blood that was coating his left eye, frowning at his bloody palm. "Damn, why do head wounds have to bleed so much."

"Just a few questions, son. Who is the president, where is our Harvard lab, and what did you want to be when you were nine?"

"Obama, the Kresge building, and a brontosaurus. I'm not concussed, Walter, the bullet barely did more than part my hair." As if to prove his statement, Peter made an attempt to stand. But Walter would have none of it.

"You stay put until you are fully recovered. And then we'll take you back to the house to patch you up," he announced.

Peter shook his head, wincing when the motion sent a stabbing pain through his brain. "I'm okay. Just need a handkerchief or something to stop the bleeding." When Walter started to protest, Peter continued, "Max came out of the barn. We need to check if she's done anything to the mini dome."

You could see Walter wanted to argue, but the determined look in Peter's blue eyes convinced him that it would be pointless. So the old man relented, pulling a square of material in a blinding neon orange hue from his pocket and holding it out to his son. Peter squinted at the proffered square. "Is this supposed to be a handkerchief, or is it a flag to signal astronauts in orbit?" he asked.

"Actually," a small, bashful smile played around Walter's lips, "it's part of a set, it came with boxer briefs and socks as well. Would you like to see?"

Realizing that Walter was reaching for his belt, Peter quickly held up his hands in refusal. "Oh God, please spare me. I'll need a gallon of bleach anyway to get the image you just planted in my mind out of my brain."

Carolyn had listened to the exchange between the Bishops with a growing sense of disbelief. Now she turned to her daughter. "Are you sure these men are really scientists?" she asked in a whisper. Norrie smiled. "You know what they say, mom. Genius and insanity go hand in hand."

**_A/N: _**_ The prompt this week was 'dinosaur' with an extra challenge to include the color orange._


	7. Chapter 7

While Carolyn went back to the house to find first aid supplies, the youngsters and the Bishops proceeded towards the barn. Peter kept pressing the orange hankie to his forehead with an expression of both distaste and resignation. They had almost reached the door when the ring of a cell phone interrupted their progress. Junior pulled out his mobile and looked at the screen.

"It's my dad. I better take this," he said, turning away from the group as he pressed the call button.

Joe was the first through the door, and he stopped in amazement, crowding the rest of the group behind him. Angie pushed him aside impatiently so they could all see what had halted him in his tracks: the mini dome had risen from its nest of straw, and was now floating about two feet off the ground.

Walter was the first to react. "Well, we should not have a problem now to examine the sphere's underside," he declared, taking a step towards the object, which was hanging perfectly still in mid air. One by one the others followed him until they all stood in a circle around the dome. As if on cue, five handprints appeared on the outside.

"Okay, this is different," Norrie said. "It's always been about the four of us. Why now five?"

"Well, there's five of us here," Peter replied. "Maybe it's trying to communicate with whoever is close by."

"Okay, here goes nothing," Joe said, putting his hand against one of the glowing outlines. The others followed suit. As soon as all five hands had made contact, the dome began to hum, sending tiny vibrations through their palms and up their arms. At that point Junior came into the barn, having successfully - although not exactly truthfully - fended off his father's questions about his whereabouts.

"Angie!" Junior ran up to the girl and tried to pull her away from the dome, but it was as if her palm had fused to the surface of the globe. The hum increased in pitch, and the group of five started shaking more and more violently, until one by one their eyes rolled back into their heads and they sank to the ground - at which point the dome released its magnetic hold on them.

It wasn't long until they came around again, and apart from a slight headache they did not seem to suffer from any side effects. Except that when they compared notes on their experience they discovered that each one of them now had an image burned into their minds they couldn't shake. The dome had settled back onto the ground, so they returned to the house to discuss their visions.

"Okay, what exactly does everybody see?" Peter asked once they were seated around the dining room table and Carolyn got busy on his head with butterfly strips, gauze and tape.

"I see the barn," Joe said.

"I see a bleached animal skull lying in the sand - yuk." That was Norrie.

"I see the inside of a car, but it's all overgrown and covered in branches and vines," Angie reported.

"And I see the sun setting over a futuristic or alien city scape with a river," Peter said. Then he looked at his father, who appeared to be lost in thought. "What about you, Walter?"

The old man startled as if awaking from a dream. "Me? Oh, what I see is quite extraordinary. And hard to explain. It's rather - psychedelic."

Peter brushed Carolyn's busy hands away and leaned closer to his father. "Walter, have you been tripping secretly?"

"No, son, how could I? My whole stash was left behind in the lab when we came here."

"Excuse me," Carolyn interrupted, "Are you telling me your father is habitually consuming illegal substances?"

"Well, you heard him, not at the moment," Peter snapped back, clearly annoyed at the interruption. But then he saw the stern look on Carolyn's face and relented. "I'm sorry, you have every right to ask. My father's history is a long and complicated story, but I can assure you that it will not in any way harm or have a bad influence on your daughter. We have worked as consultants to the FBI for several years, and Walter's recreational use of certain mind expanding substances has never been an..."

"That's it, son!" Walter shouted, jumping up from his chair in excitement. "It's expanding - what I see is the explosive force of a super nova!"

_AN: The prompt this week were the five images described in this chapter. I'm unable to post the link to them here, but PM me if you'd like to know where to find them._


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm very happy I was able to provide the spark for this realization," Peter said to Walter, who was all but hopping from one foot to the other in excitement, "but I would much prefer if you calmed yourself and sat down again. Even with this piece of data, we're still a far cry from solving this riddle."

"Nonsense, it's perfectly obvious to me," Walter replied. "We are dealing with Aliens."

The youngsters exchanged puzzled looks. Peter raised an eyebrow. "And how did you come to this conclusion?"

"The futuristic landscape you described. I assume it is an advanced civilisation on a distant planet that is in danger of being wiped out by a supernova. So they found this barn, which Josh here saw..."

"My name is Joe," the teen said, but Walter waved the interruption away. "... and they appear to think it provides a solution to the problem they face on their home world."

"But how would our barn help a far away planet?" Angie wanted to know.

"It doesn't explain the skull or the overgrown car, either," Norrie pointed out. "Where do those come in?"

"Maybe they plan to kill us all to make room for their own species," Angie whispered.

"Come now, child, there's no need to assume the worst," Carolyn tried to soothe her.

"Think of it," Peter said. "The egg has not harmed anybody yet. It's even trying to communicate with us. Why would it do that if it was planning our annihilation?"

"Quite right," Walter declared. "I am positive there is a perfectly rational explanation for these images, which will come to me momentarily,"

Everybody around the table started talking at the same time, producing theories and proposing lines of action. The only one who did not participate was Junior. He felt left out, superfluous. So he quietly slipped out and made his way to the barn. He was sure if he touched the mini dome it would provide him with an image as well, which might help solve the mystery. But when he put his hand against the curved surface, no image appeared before his inner eye. Instead there was a rustling noise behind him and when he turned around he froze in shock. In front of him stood - his mother, who had died many years before.

The woman wore a shabby house dress, splattered with oil color. She lifted her hand and pointed at Junior. "Pink stars are falling," she said.

Junior swallowed convulsively. He knew that this apparition could not be his mother, no matter how badly he wanted it to be. Finally he managed to overcome his surprise and bewilderment. "I know, mom. You painted them in a picture," he said. "And you painted me in it as well."

She nodded. "It is time. Pink stars are falling," she repeated.

"What does that even mean?" Junior asked, but the woman only kept repeating the same sentence, no matter how often he probed her for clarification. In the end, the young man became so frustrated that he approached her, reaching for her shoulders to shake some sense into her. But his hands went right through he body as if she were a ghost. As Junior jumped back with a startled cry, the woman shook her head sadly.

"The pink stars are falling. Hurry!" was the last thing she said before she vanished into thin air, leaving a very scared and confused Junior behind.

**_AN: _**_ This week's prompt - due to Halloween - was to include something spooky or scary_


	9. Chapter 9

Junior's return to the house interrupted a lively discussion, in which only Walter did not participate. He was sitting off to the side, humming to himself, and didn't even look up when the panicked young man pushed the door open so hard as he entered that it banged against the wall.

"Junior! What's wrong?" Angie cried.

"I... I just saw my mom," Junior gasped. "And she told me to hurry."

"A family emergency? Do they need you at home?" Peter asked.

"No, you don't understand," Joe explained. "Junior's mother has been dead for many years."

"I see." Peter rose from his chair, walked over to Junior and guided him to the sofa. "Get me a shot of whisky, or something else high octane," he said over his shoulder to Angie, who obeyed immediately. "Now then, son, why don't you tell us exactly what happened."

When Junior had finished his tale - aided by a spot of Bourbon Angie provided - Norrie spoke up. "The mini dome also showed me my mom. In the forest, and I think it was just as she was..." She broke off, the issue of her mother's death still too sore a subject to mention. Joe awkwardly patted her hand to comfort her.

"It appears that thing urgently wants to communicate with us," Peter said. "And some kind of event seems to be imminent. If only we knew what." He turned to his father. "Walter, this would be a good time for one of your theories."

There was no reply, Walter remained sitting in his corner, counting on his fingers and muttering to himself. With a heavy sigh, Peter rose and walked over to him, put his hand on Walter's shoulder and gave him a little shake.

Walter gave a violent start and glared at Peter accusingly. "Must you always interrupt me?"

"Interrupt what, exactly?" Peter asked.

"I was using an ratiocination technique I developed myself. It is based on the game 'We're going on a journey', and it allows me to logically arrange a set of seemingly unrelated data."

"Going on a journey? Are you serious?"

"You remember the game? We used to play it on long drives when you were little. We're going on a journey, and in my suitcase I have pyjamas. Then the next person repeats it and adds..."

"I know how the game works, but I fail to see how it can help in our present situation."

"Well, that's the brilliance of it. You see I started out with 'I have an alien city'. Then I had to decide what picture would be the next logical step, and I came up with 'I have an alien city, and I have a super nova threatening it' followed by 'I have an alien city, and I have a super nova threatening it, and I have an emissary from this race landing on Earth in this barn.'"

Peter had been listening with growing impatience, which now got the better of him. "I think we've all come this far in our conclusion. Skip to the good part - where do the other two images come in?"

Walter cast him a reproachful look. "I was just getting to that when you so rudely interrupted my thought process."

Peter was about to turn away with an eye roll, but Walter caught him by the sleeve of his jacket. "Still, I succeeded so far to narrow down their meanings to two possibilities."

"Alright then," Peter said, returning to his chair and sitting down. "You have our undivided attention."

_**AN: **__ The prompt for this chapter was to include some sort of game. I hope 'Going on a Journey' is widely enough known. I Germany it's called 'Ich packe meinen Koffer' (I'm packing my suitcase) and it's very common. My family and I did in fact play it on long drives._


End file.
